culinary homesickness

It´s one of the best comedores in town, but I just couldn´t get excited about my scrambled eggs, rice, and tomato salad last night at Lizzette´s. I picked at my plate with all the enthusiasm of someone who heard their dog just died. Staring out the window onto the narrow street where college students scurried to and fro, I remarked to my companions that what I could really go for was a chicken quesadilla, some chips and salsa, and a little cafe after dinner. (BTW, I wish breakfast tacos were non-perishable, so someone could send me some chilaquiles). As I sippled my limonada, I reminisced for a minute about my favorite dinner memories in Texas, most of which involved a homecooked meal around a table with cherished friends...and a leisurely cup of coffee to top it off.

Believe it or not, as good as the coffee beans are here, it´s rare to find anything but the instant variety in the restaurants around Leon. So I invested in a small pot, which I have used to implement a new coffee-making technique involving boiling water, coffee grounds, and a strainer. While I have periodic access to the kitchen in my boarding house, not having a kitchen of my own has been a harder thing than I thought to adjust to over the last few weeks. While it´s possible to eat a meal for under $1 here, it wears a little on me not to have my own refrigerator, and to only buy what I will eat in the next 24-48 hours at the store (including non-perishable items). If you keep anything (especially something sweet) around longer than 2 days, it´s a fairly good possibility that the ants will find it, even in a sealed container. (I keep my sugar and bread on the highest shelf from the floor, which so far has been successful, but with the rain coming more frequently these days, who knows.)

O Dios, make me grateful for the food I have, the resources that make its purchase possible, and the Pan de Vida that sustains me in all things. Amen.